Threaten
by CelestialSands
Summary: Beneath a façade of justice and concern, some members of the fairy Council have secrets...   An AU crime fic. Vinyayá and Root are alive, but it takes place after TLC. Rated T to be on the safe side.
1. Prelude

**A/N: Hello there~! I'm CelestialSands, a newbie here , but not really a newbie on writing. I had been lurking around and reading for a month or so and finally decided to actually sign up. So, here's a story to start off, maybe as an introduction to my writing style. **

**Read on…**

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><p><strong>Prelude (Part One)<strong>

Politics, be it fairy or human, is corrupt.

Bribery. Secrets. Treachery. Lies. Anything goes when power is at stake.

Even, to some extent, murder.

This may be shocking news to some. This may be a confirmation to others.

But to a select few, this is a threat.

I have been asked to report this incident in as true a fashion as possible. I have more-or-less succeeded in doing so, but, I had to take some poetic license in telling this story, because I cannot possibly know what anyone else is thinking or feeling at any given moment.

I have recieved several death threats over this controversial message that I am delivering. I do not doubt that they will be carried out if it was possible. However, I do not think so, because all that are closest to me can either defend themselves or have someone capable of defending them close by at all times. I myself have a highly trusted bodyguard.

You, as the reader, are a different story.

Why am I telling you this? I am writing the incident down because it is the truth, and some don't want anyone to know it.

Proceed, but be warned that reading my words may bring uninvited guests to your doorstep.

Signed,

Artemis Fowl the Second


	2. PreludePart II

**Prelude(Part II)**

The witching hour. When not a single sane fairy on the right side of the law dared to come out to the streets of Haven.

That suited Jabb. He had business to take care of. Business that wasn't exactly legal.

Whistling, as he strode down the street, pass the thieving dwarves sharing their pickings for the night, pass the drunk goblins, pass the scarred elves that made up the backstreet gangs. He certainly stood out like a sore thumb, mostly because he wasn't in a leather jacket("Disgusting garments," he muttered under his breath), carrying a bottle("I hate alcohol,"), or covered in battle scars("All the better to identify them with,"). If any other fairy had dared to come in like this, insulting the local street trash, they would have been flattened, robbed, and murdered within three seconds of setting foot in the alleyway. But most of the pickpockets and thugs were put off by the Softnose handgun he was waving around at the criminal bunch. So far, three goblins and a sprite lay on the ground, gasping from the laser burns.

Finally, he reached his destination. A pair of jumbo pixies, straight from Atlantis, stood guard at the corrugated metal door. The guards begrudgingly grumbled a respectful greeting at Jabb, and let him through. After all, this was the fairy that had paid them to stand out here and stare at the wall all day.

Inside, was a single female pixie. She was bound to a chair and covered in bruises. Jabb grinned. Finally, he had found a competent bunch. The last group of hooligans had forgotten to drain their hostage's magic, nearly causing his boss to get arrested. Thank Frond for the large amounts of convicts around to blame it on.

"I thought we had a deal, Miss Yearling."

Yearling snickered. "Yes, keep quiet or get fired. But in the end, it doesn't really matter, does it? You're gonna kill me anyway."

"You're absolutely correct. Now, any last words before we blow you to smithereens?"

Garnet Yearling spat at her captor's feet. "Yes. You'll get caught, Jabb, you, your boss, and your whole gang. The LEP will lock you up, and then we'll see who's laughing then."

"Certainly not you. You won't be alive. Besides, I'm not the one who will kill you. No, I plan on having one of the most prestigious LEP officers getting involved. It will tarnish her perfect record."

Jabb drew a yellow object out of his breast pocket. Garnet's eyes widened.

"Is that what I think it is? No. You won't dare. It's not…"

Smirking, he placed the plastic explosive on Garnet's lap.

"Five kilos of Semtex. Now, farewell. I trust you'll carry our secret to the grave."

One last wave, and he was out, scaling the wall and getting as far away from the building as possible. He pulled out a remote control, hit the button, struggled to stay on his feet as the shock wave spread. Then, he threw the remote at the fire that had started. The fire which he knew would ensue. Mostly because he had made sure there were more than enough flammables soaked in petroleum in the room which he had just exited.

"Boss would be pleased," he chuckled as he threw the tell-tale jacket into the raging inferno.


	3. Chapter 3

***claps* The show must go on! Finally, I have gotten round to updating one of my badly neglected fics...**

**1**

Captain Holly Short hated a lot of things. Number one on the list was animal fat. Number two was Opal. Number three used to be Council meetings which somehow required her expertise on all things Fowl. Number three was now waking up in the middle of the night to Foaly's voice, unnaturally amplified, screaming into her ear to, in his words, "Wake up and smell the toffee, or whatever that Mud Man quote is; we have a CRISIS!"

Holly also learnt several important things about Haven at three thirty in the morning. One was that all the trams at this hour were full of fairies in their tender fifties, high on various substances of doubtful legitimacy. There were some that were barely standing, some that reeked of some substance that Holly had no wish to discover, and of course, there were always going to be drunks. The elfin captain made a silent resolve to kill Foaly if it wasn't anything of more importance than Opal breaking loose as several intoxicated sprites began to gradually form incoherent words in an attempt to make conversation.

_Idiot kids, wrecking their magic,_ she thought before she reminded herself that she wasn't that much older. However, she realised that when she was their age, she had to be forced into stilettos at gunpoint. Forget about parties; she just wasn't a fan of spraying on make-up and putting on uncomfortable clothes that revealed an unappetising amount of skin. She generally preferred to leave those activities to the Lily Fronds of the world. The tram stopped, and she gratefully stepped out after swiping her citizen card on the sensor, noting that she would have to top up her transport funds; it wouldn't do to have to run all the way to Police Plaza in the next emergency.

The artificial lighting of the underground remained on even at night(though it was somewhat dimmed). Behind the windows of the soaring buildings of Haven Central, the desk-working class packed up their SD cards after a solid eleven hours of work. Holly caught sight of a pixie staggering out of a building with a box of nearly twenty cards; considering that each card could hold the equivalent of ten Mud Man suitcases, she concluded that it was a lot of paper work and she was secretly glad that she didn't work in accounting or audits or something equally hideous. She'd never been one for math. Field work, maybe, but certainly not surds or exponentials or any of the billion things she had never used(nor remembered) since joining the Academy.

Caught up in counting how many times her teachers had to prod her awake in her twenty years of mathematics education, Holly scarcely noticed herself stepping onto the foyer of Police Plaza. She did, however, marvel at the pandemonium that greeted her on the Recon and Investigations floor. Techies rushed around, carrying what looked like charred rubble and bits of concrete. Trouble and the Investigations fairy she knew as Tania Oaken were conferring, both looking worried. Holly shook her head and marched into Foaly's room, determined to find out what had gotten the LEP so hot and bothered.

The centaur _clip-clopped_to the captain, relief present on his face.

"Ah, Holly, it's, quite frankly, a disaster. You see, there was an explosion at the Slums. It's horrible to say this, but the only reason why it's so huge this time is because… Investigations told us that at the epicentre of the explosion was the Council Secretary's corpse."

Holly could not suppress a gasp. The Council Sec in question was Garnet Yearling, one of the only females that were famous for politics. She was declared missing a week ago, and they had combed the whole of the Lower Elements, but not a trace of her had turned up.

Foaly continued on, full steam ahead. "So, they also found Mud Man plastic explosive, and petrol in there… so we suspect that it might be a triad. After all, the fairy explosives are locked up tight; only the LEP has access, and petrol… we don't know anywhere that supplies it, since we've only used nuclear or geothermal energy since the last century…"

"Wait, you mean, the explosion was started with Mud Man stuff?"

The centaur clicked his tongue impatiently. "Of course, that's what I said, isn't it?"

Holly couldn't help but to feel that Foaly was keeping something from her. "Who did it? Any suspects?"

Foaly motioned to a chair nearby. "You may want to sit down, Holly."

"Who is it?" The sense of dread she felt was impossible to ignore.

One deep breath. "Please don't shoot the messenger, but we found Wing Commander Vinyayá at the crime scene."


End file.
